ADIEU, Madame! The moon of May br Wanes now above the orchard grey; br The white May-blossoms fall like snow, br As Love foretold a month ago-- br Or was it only yesterday? br br br All pleasant things must pass away; br You would not, surely, have me stay? br I own I shun the inference! No! br Adieu, Madame! br br br Come, dry your eyes, for not this way br Should end your pretty pastoral play.